In Slow Motion
by denise1
Summary: A Sam and Daniel based tag to Matter of Time


In Slow Motion

by

Denise

Dr. Daniel Jackson took one last look at his sleeping friend, shrouded in sheets and swathed in bandages.  Jack had to have used up another one of his nine lives on this one.  Caught in a bomb blast for Pete's sake.  What on Earth was he thinking?  Oh, just saving the planet. No big deal. Did it every day.

Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head.  And Jack said he was reckless.

He left the infirmary, giving Janet a quick smile and walked down the empty corridors towards his office.  His foot steps echoed in the eerily quiet hallways.  Since the gate was off-line until a new iris could be installed, General Hammond had sent all non-essential personnel home for some well deserved rest.

A lot had happened in two weeks.  A frantic fortnight for SG-6 & 4, who, along with Daniel, had basically been marooned off world, unable to come home while the intense gravity of the black hole prohibited the SGC from disengaging the wormhole to P3W451.

The relief they'd felt when their daily attempt to get home finally worked had been overwhelming.  In fact, they'd been on the verge of trying to find the Tok'ra and make sure Earth still existed when they'd gotten through.

After being unable to return to Earth, the two off-planet teams agreed to rendezvous at Broca.  They figured if they had to be marooned, they should at least enjoy a hospitable planet.  And there was that whole safety in numbers thing.

After getting through to a panicked SGC, who were on the verge of sending two rescue teams to search for the missing SG-6 & 4, they all gated home into what almost looked like a war zone.  The control room had been littered with razor sharp shards of broken glass. Computer monitors and furniture were scattered around the room.  The metal grate ramp was warped and bent.  Even the briefing room and General Hammond's office hasn't escaped unscathed.  Daniel didn't think there was a single piece of intact glass in the place.  What the black hole hadn't pulled out, the bomb blew out.

They would  literally be picking up the pieces for weeks.  Physically and mentally.

Daniel shuddered in memory of all he'd heard.  SG-10 trapped on a planet, being slowly pulled apart by gravity waves.  Sam having to fight the experts at the Pentagon and make them listen to and implement her plan.  And Jack, from what Daniel had heard, had not only been reminded of an exceedingly dark period of his life, but then had to hang there helplessly while the tenuous threads of friendship, so recently re-forged, were ripped apart by the unfathomable pull of a behemoth's gravity.

A tiny part of Daniel was glad he hadn't been there. He wouldn't have been much use anyway. Then again, he felt guilty that, while he'd been safe and well, if a bit worried, on Broca, being wined and dined by a still grateful Tuplo, his friends were here, fighting for their very existence.

He really should catalogue those artifacts he and SG-6 had found and brought back.  There was that urn with the early depiction of Krishna on it...oh forget it.  They'd been lying forgotten and abandoned on PX3808 for a few millennia, they could stay in their crates for a few more days.

First on his list was a shower.  A steaming, hot shower.  One that ran so long he'd drain the water heater dry and step out to wipe off fogged up mirrors with pruned hands.

He loved digging for artifacts.  It was one of the most relaxing things about his job.  And as much as he loved his work at the SGC, it was one of the things from his past life he missed the most. There was something pure in liberating artifacts from the imprisoning earth and revealing them to the light of day to share with future generations.

Digging was also one of the filthiest parts.  After two days on PX3808, he'd been more than ready for a shower.  And after taking refuge on Broca, they'd confirmed that, as nice and hospitable as the people were, they still hadn't grasped the concept of running water.  After two weeks of sponge baths Daniel felt like a giant mud monster.

Number two was to sleep several hours in his own bed.  Oh yeah, to finally sleep on a mattress covered in soft cotton sheets and feather pillows.  The Brocans may be used to a pile of cushions on the floor, and it was nicer than a sleeping bag on the ground but he missed his bed.

And solitude.  Daniel guessed Jack must have put the fear of god into Captain Marshall.  The man hadn't left him alone for a second while they were on PX3808, making sure he was always at least in sight of someone.  After they went to Broca, it had been Tuplo and Melosha who'd monopolized his time.  Not that he was anti-social or anything. It's just that when you've spent so much of your life alone, there are times when you crave solitude and silence.

As he walked past Sam's lab, he took a cursory look inside, wondering if she'd forgotten and left the lights on.  He knew the general had told her to go home a while ago.  He stopped at the sight of Sam, sitting there, her elbow propped on the table, her head in her hand, staring at the computer screen.  Even from the doorway he could see her eyes weren't focused on the monitor just inches away from her face.

He quietly stepped into the room and stood, looking over her shoulder at the display.  On it were images of four SGC personnel on a desert planet.  It was the footage the MALP had sent back of SG-10.  Even if he hadn't recognized Henry Boyd, RJ Watts, Lois Donoghue and Misha Rashovich, he would have known who they were by the simple fact of the gaping hole in the sky looming over them like a dark, inescapable angel of death and the terrified, desperate looks on their faces.

The footage moved a bit, then jumped and began again, like an endless loop of disaster, replaying over and over. He remembered hearing they'd only received mere seconds of footage during the hours the gate had been stuck open.  That had been their first clue to the severity of SG-10's situation.

"I thought you went home hours ago," he said quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

He had to take a quick step back as she jumped, spinning around on her stool and almost falling off her perch. He reached out a hand to steady her. "Geez, you scared me.  I didn't hear you come in," she gasped out, laying her hand on her chest as if to slow her jumping pulse.

"I'm not surprised.  You were pretty focused," he said, claiming a stool and pointing at the monitor. "I thought you were going home," he repeated.

"Oh, yeah I was...I just...someone downloaded this to my computer," she said, meaning the video file. "You know, they're probably still alive.  I mean it was two weeks for you and everyone on the surface, General Hammond was gone for 18 hours and it seemed like a few minutes, I was on the surface overnight and it was less than 5 minutes in the control room.  Theoretically they could be alive forever.  To Major Boyd and the rest it's probably been just a few minutes, maybe even seconds.  If time slows down enough, they may live forever... time will pass so slowly they'll spend eternity stuck in the last few seconds of their lives..."  Sam's voice trailed off.  She paused a second then looked Daniel in the eyes. "Daniel, do you thing there's something wrong with me?" she asked quietly.

"Other than you rambling on a bit?" he replied with a smile.  As soon as he saw her face fall, he realized humor wasn't the right thing for her to hear now.

She shook her head. "No. I...as soon as we realized what was going on...that it was a black hole and SG-10 was doomed...General Hammond ordered us to close the wormhole...to cut them off.  I said we should use this opportunity to study it.  That, since the wormhole somehow changed the laws of physics, we should take this chance to gain something from it...and the colonel...Daniel, do you think I'm a ghoul?"

Realization dawned.  Just like on Hanka, Sam probably suggested setting the tragedy aside and trying to gain some knowledge out of the loss.  And if he knew Jack, she'd met with some resistance.  More like outright

disapproval.  At least on Hanka, Jack hadn't been friends with the doomed SG-7.   Daniel knew Jack had recommended Henry Boyd for the command and would be taking the man's death personally, convinced that there was some way he could have prevented it.  As a matter of fact, Daniel wondered just how hard Jack would have pushed for the rescue.  Chances are, he had been ready to jump through the gate before they even tried to send a probe. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead and all that.

And if what he was seeing on the monitor was what Jack had seen, his friends dying in slow-motion...Sam's suggestion would have been met with as much resistance and disgust as if she'd suggested they started using volunteers instead of MALPs. 

"Sam, you remember P9X328?" Sam looked at him blankly, not linking the designation to the planet. "The one we called Pompeii." He saw recognition flash across her face.

"Where we found all the statues..."

"That were really mummified bodies, just like Pompeii.  At first we thought they were clay statues like in Chinese tombs and Jack was even using one of them as a coat rack...then I tripped over one, broke the outer casing and realized it was...used to be...a person.  Jack was so creeped out he made us move camp."

"Actually, he would have rather stayed on Earth and commuted every day," Sam said quietly.

Daniel looked at her. "He never said that."

"I only know because I asked him why he took all the watches, staying up all night and sleeping all day.  It was because it bugged him to be surrounded by so many corpses," Sam said, remembering her CO's grudging admission.  "I think it even bothered Teal'c a bit."

"It was sort of creepy," Daniel admitted. "But I'm used to being around mummies. Spent half my childhood crawling around tombs. Long dead bodies don't bother me.  In fact sometimes I found them preferable to the living ones.  They're usually a lot nicer.  You, you're used to looking past things.  Digging under the surface, figuring out what makes them tick.  When you look up at the stars, you're not just seeing the constellations, you actually know how the whole thing works.  Who orbits who and all that.  I don't.  I consider it a minor miracle I even find Orion."

"You only see it in the northern hemisphere in the winter," Sam said.

Daniel shot her a look. "My point is, both you and I have spent years teaching ourselves to look at things differently.  When we see some alien device for the first time, Jack wonders if it's a weapon, Teal'c wonders if it's something the Goa'uld have, I look for designs that would indicate the culture it came from, and you try to figure out how it works and if we can build one.  We all look at things in our own ways.  When you wanted to study the black hole, it probably didn't register that you would be seeing them dying, all you saw was a once in a lifetime opportunity to chart a baby black hole. There's nothing wrong with that."

Sam shook her head. "I don't know Daniel. You didn't see the looks on their faces.  Both General Hammond and the colonel.  They looked at me like I was some kind of monster or something. Like they'd lost all respect for me for even suggesting something so...callous," Sam said sadly as she proceeded to study a tiny scratch in the surface of the table, idly running her finger over the imperfection in the surface.

"Sam, they don't feel that way," Daniel reassured his friend. "If they didn't trust you... heck I'd still be marooned with SG-6 & 4 and Earth would be well on its way to being destroyed.  I know the general fought the whole Pentagon to try your idea.  He basically told a few dozen PhD's and Nobel Prize winning scientists they were wrong and he was going to listen to this captain of his that felt her idea was better.  And Jack...he trusted you enough that he risked his life to implement your plan.  He wouldn't have done that for just anyone," Daniel paused and turned Sam to look in her eyes.  "You still have their respect, probably more than you'll ever realize.  I think they were thinking of the 'We regret to inform you,' letters they would both have to write.  The memorial services with grieving relatives they'd have to lie to."

"Maybe," Sam said, unconvinced.

Seeing the look on his friend's face, Daniel changed his plans for the evening.  He could be alone later. "Look, it might not seem like it to you, but neither of us have been home for two weeks.  How about you come over to my place, we'll order a pizza and chill out," he suggested.

"Daniel, you hate pizza," Sam said with a tiny smile.

"Only because Jack puts anchovies on it. Uggh. Fish on pizza. There ought to be a law. If you don't want pizza, how about Chinese, Indian, Italian..." he suggested.

Sam sighed and smiled. "Make it Mexican and you've got a deal."

"Mexican I can handle.  When will you be ready to go?  Just don't make it too long.  I've been living on field rations for 14 days," he warned, waggling his eyebrows, a mock desperate look on his face.

"How about now?" she asked, opening her drawer pulling out her keys and hopping off the stool. "There's nothing more I can do here. And like you've said, I've been on duty for two weeks straight."

Daniel got to his feet also. "Great. Though I have to warn you, I haven't cleaned in a while.  No guarantee against killer dust bunnies."

"Are you kidding me?  I've named mine. The last time the landlord came into my place he thought I had a cat again."

The two friends left the room, turning out the light, neither noticing the images on the computer monitor still stuck in their loop, an endless replay of the eternal last few seconds of four peoples' lives.

fin


End file.
